Page 74 of The Prospect

“You?” I almost laugh as I say the word, too much of a high to back down. “You have no fucking right to tell me what to do. I trusted you to look after her tonight, Hart. Not lure her back into her fucking bedroom!”

“Lure her back to her bedroom?” Hart repeats in utter disbelief. “What the fuck are you on about, Green? Maybe if you were around at some point tonight, then you would know the real reason why we came back here.”

I shake my head in frustration, pressing my tongue into the inside of my cheek. “Oh, I know the reason, Hart. It’s always something with you. Why can’t you just learn to keep your dick in your fucking pants for once? For once! She’s my best friend for fucks sake, you piece of shit!”

“Sure, I’ll do that when you learn to mind your own fucking business!Hazeisn’t yours, Green. Get that through your thick skull!”

The mention of her nickname is the butane to my fire, and I completely lose it.

“I’m going to kick your fucking ass?—”

“That’s enough, Daniel!” Hazel shouts my name—my first name—and it brings everything to a stop, a total standstill.

The look on her face is one I can’t even find the right words to describe. Somehow, in the midst of my and Hart’s debate, Hazel has managed to throw on her shirt and place herself in between the two of us.

Her presence forces me to immediately drop my fist and question why it was ever up to swing at Hart, to begin with.

What am I doing?

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Hazel scowls at me, pushing against my chest. “No, the better question is, what on Earth do you think you’re doing?!”

“I…” I’m at a loss for words as all eyes fall on me. Her’s, Amira’s, Hart’s—all of them in search of an answer to my outburst that, quite frankly, I don’t think exists.

I have no idea what just came over me, let alone why I just reacted the way I did. All I know right now is one simple truth: I’ve fucked up.

I’ve fucked up big time.

“I think Amira’s right. You need to leave,” Hazel instructs my vacant stare, and hearing those final four words is like a punch to the gut.

“Leave?” I refuse to believe that that's what she just said to me. “Haze…” I call her by her nickname, but it doesn’t soften her in the slightest.

“Don’t ‘Haze’ me right now.” She tightens her upper lip. “Just…” She closes her eyes firmly as her head falls parallel to the ground. “Go, okay?” She’s visibly exhausted as she spews out the words. “You need to go.”

“Hazel, please.” I attempt to step toward her, but Hart stops me. I want to retaliate by pushing him back, but I know better than to escalate this any more than I already have. “I’m not leaving till we talk about this. I’m sorry, just—look at me, Hazel,” I plead. “Please.”

It takes her a second, but eventually, she looks up at me, and only when she does, I almost don’t recognize her. This foreign look of pain in her eyes, the one that I’m responsible for, is new to me, and it by far becomes the worst crime I’ve ever committed in my life…

“I think you’ve said more than enough tonight, Daniel.” Her voice is stoic as she reaches for Hart’s hand along with a bagacross the room. “And if you’re not going to leave, then guess what? We will. C’mon, Hart.” She urges him. “Let’s go.”

Willingly, he nods, slipping his shirt on himself as she leads him out of the room.

“Hazel, wait!” I refuse to let up, trying once more to stop her. “Please. Don’t let the night end like this. We never go to bed without saying goodnight to each other.Never.”

It was a habit the two of us fell into many years ago but now has become the only thing that helps put me to sleep day in and day out.

Hazel stops in place, and for a moment, I’m naive enough to believe what I’ve just said was enough to convince her to stay.

Amira and Hart are no longer in this room with us, in theory that is. It’s just Hazel, myself, and her call on where we go from here.

“Goodnight, Daniel.” She looks me square in the face and whispers before she slips out the door with Hart. “I hope you’re happy.”

TWENTY-TWO

G R E E N

Fifteen years.

That’s 5,475 days.

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